


All These Years

by Dickbutt



Series: Dickbutt Writes Again [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief use of alcohol, Chekhov's Omnic, Gender Neutral, Mild Blood, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, nonlinear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dickbutt/pseuds/Dickbutt
Summary: “Mmmm, well, sweetheart, I do believe I was yours before I even knew ya~ Was written in the stars.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Original request: during mccree's blackwatch days he met another recruit (maybe she willingly joined bc she admired reyes or something) who he took a liking to and they both teased each other/got along really well but nothing came of it bc they were both busy and didn't realize the other felt the same way. then the infighting began, overwatch & blackwatch fell and mccree left. fast-forward years later to the recall and they see each other again and both realize they still have feelings for one another.
> 
> Originally posted at: [Dickbutt Writes Again](http://dickbutt-writes-again.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.

As dire as the reasons for the Recall had been, there was nothing quite like reuniting with old friends to ease the heart. At least, it was how McCree felt. Overwatch – Blackwatch, too – had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a family (and like hell he was going to count Deadlock), and those years without them, though necessary, had been hard. To see so many of his old comrades – not to mention several new faces – united again under a single banner warmed his heart. It felt like coming home.

It was easy to fall into old routines: Missions, training, easy camaraderie. And as months passed, and more recruits gathered together for the cause, he never realized that something – someone – was still desperately missing from the equation, until it was right in front of him, and felt more the fool for it.

Another batch of volunteers was due to arrive, and like many of the others, he felt it polite to form up some unofficial form of a welcoming committee. But when the transport touched down, and he found himself faced with his biggest _what-if_ , everything slid near-perfectly into place. Nobody had warned him; it was intended to be a surprise, he supposed. He caught your roving gaze, and your face lit up when you saw him. He felt his heart jump.

Well, happy early birthday to him – he guessed.

_“Jesse!”_

Your voice set free an age-old ache in his bones – comfortable in its familiarity. You dropped all your possessions and launched yourself off the transport at full speed. McCree fully anticipated your running leap, and caught you in a tight embrace, holding you aloft to the tune of your laughter. It’d been _years_ , and the sound of your mirth had him automatically feeling ten, fifteen years younger, like he could take on the whole of Talon – the world – as long as he had you right there with him.

He wanted so badly to kiss you – you were right _there,_ just close enough but he…

He couldn’t.

He lowered you to your feet, held you at arm’s length (like he always had.) He bit back a rueful smile, lowered his eyes so his hat could hide his expression just enough for him to reign in control.

“Darlin’, if you don’t just look as good as ever~”He laughed, gave you a wink. “Maybe even better than the last time I saw ya.”

 _Your tear-streaked face, asking him why he was turning his back on the people who needed him_ – he pushed the thought away. He’d languished on that thought for years, it was time to move past it. You certainly looked ready to. Your hands on his face pulled him back into the present.

“You’ve gotten hairier,” you remarked with a chuckle, scratching your fingers through the scruff of his beard.

“Well, y’know, had’ta keep myself warm during all those cold, lonely nights on the road.”

“Hmm, and maybe those nights wouldn’t have been so cold and lonely if you’d brought someone along,” you teased, and his heart fluttered again.

He could do this. He’d done it for years, he could take up the mantle again. Didn’t matter that every time you smiled it felt like his chest was turning inside out. It was easy, to laugh, to joke. You made it easy; it was probably why he loved you so damn much. After a minute more of lighthearted banter, he beckoned you close again, drew you into his arms and squeezed.

“But damn, if it ain’t great to see you.” He buried his face in your shoulder. Breathed in, exhaled. Savored the moment. “Missed ya.”

He relished in the ways your hands clenched his shoulders, in the way you wholeheartedly returned his embrace. Your laugh was quiet, from deep in the chest.

“I missed you too, cowboy.” 

 

* * *

 

Blackwatch had harbored its fair share of negative rumors – a lot of them certainly true, but never that it had been anything less than welcoming (at least until toward the end). It was true, though, that there weren’t many people lining up to volunteer their service, given their methods of conscription – Jesse McCree himself as an example. But there were people who chose the covert-ops, whether out of a respect for the commander, or out of some misguided desire to take on the seedier tasks.

McCree, young and still clinging to the last dregs of his bitterness, wondered why in the hell somebody like you had done just that. No criminal record, neither hide nor hair of malicious intent, and sharp skills with a broad enough range that Overwatch would’ve welcomed you with open arms, no question. You had to be hiding _something_ , if Blackwatch was your first choice.  
When he cornered you about it, you shrugged.

“Well, Reyes is a good man stuck in a bad position. You gotta admire him for that.” You tilted your head to the side with a far off look, dropped your voice. “…Also he has a _very_ nice ass.”

He snorted, looked at you in disbelief. “You really gonna follow a man into hell over an ass?”

“Well if I’m following, I’ve at least got a nice view.”

He laughed outright, shoved at your shoulder. You tugged his hat down over his eyes.

It was the start of something beautiful.

 

* * *

 

“There’s no way,” Hana deadpanned.

Angela, with all the seriousness only a world-weary woman could muster, uttered a simple: “Nope.” The medic took a long drink of her coffee.

Lúcio’s face dropped. “…You gotta be kidding me.”

“Believe me, love, she ain’t,” Lena remarked, still recovering from an earlier bout of laughter at the situation.

The group watched from across the kitchen as you laughed quietly at something McCree said, pushed gently against his chest with your hand. With the way that you and McCree behaved around one another, it was easy, _logical_ even, to assume romantic entanglement. You looked at each other with all the enthusiasm of long-separated lovers reunited, though with closer examination, it was easy to see something lingering in the space between – holding you back like repelling magnets.

“But look at them! There has to be,” he spluttered, gesturing at the sweet scene before them, “something!”

“Yes, almost twenty years of unresolved romantic tension and an obliviousness so dense I doubt even Genji could cut through it.”

Hana stared almost horror-stricken at you and McCree, so wrapped up in each other and… _no._ It couldn’t stay this way. Her tone was dire.

“We have to help them.”

Lena snorted, hopping out of her seat. “Good luck.”

Angela offered the newer, younger members a sad smile, and stood to join Lena in leaving, hands tight around her mug.

“It’s best to just leave things be.” She sighed, shook her head. “If it hasn’t happened yet, I doubt it ever will.”

The doctor nodded to Zenyatta as she passed him in the doorway. The sound of your laughter filled the room again. Lúcio and Hana made eye contact, a long stare that developed quickly into a sealed pact.

Come hell or high water, they’d see to it that you and McCree got the happy ending you deserved.

 

* * *

 

 _Pain._ What happened? Where was he? Everything blurred in the moments of consciousness between the blackouts; what little feeling there was to be had burned to ash in the wake of unrelenting pain. Couldn’t move. Throat dry, hoarse, tongue tied – was he still screaming? Was that his voice?

A cool hand touched his forehead and he nearly moaned in relief at reprieve from the fever. He tried to lean into the touch but found he couldn’t move. Vision returned in spots. Your face, swimming in his blurred eyes, haloed by the light behind you. A literal angel.

 _Darlin’_. His mouth moved to form the word but no sound came out. Your face, the focus, wet and teary eyed.

“Try… try not to move. I got in contact with Reyes, they’re coming in for extraction. We’re gonna be okay.”

He had so many questions to ask, and none of the means. He could hardly remember the last moments of the mission, the farthest he could go ended in a haze of painful red. He struggled to sit up, was more successful than the last attempt. You supported most of his weight, the rest went to the wall. Sweat soaked hair fell into his eyes, the cool hand returned to push it back. His head lolled down.

Blood oozed through the makeshift tourniquet, pieces of his old bandana, what he recognized as a jacket of yours, wrapped tight around the shredded stump of his left arm. Bile rose in his throat and was swallowed. The room spun. A hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, Jesse. Just… stay with me.”

His head swam again, thumping hard against your shoulder. The fever, the burn, the phantom aching. What about the mission? What would Reyes say? Your presence at his side, your hand. He let his eyes slip closed.

“I’ve got you. _I’ve got you._ ”

 

* * *

 

It was different, this new Overwatch. Different, but good. There were a lot of people that you missed from the times before, and life hadn’t felt quite right without a gun at your hip, a cause to fight for. But you still had familiar faces, with all the aching nostalgia they brought with them, and many new, and it was good to be back, to have a purpose, so to speak.

Everyone welcomed you with open arms – and you were certain that Jesse had been no small part of that. It was surprising that in spite of the last time you’d seen him face to face how easy it was to fall into the old routines. He was very much the same man at heart as he was six years ago – and beyond – maybe a little rougher around the edges, a bit more tense in manner. The years had changed you both; hopefully for the better.

“You and McCree have known each other a long time, huh.”

You turned to the young girl – Hana, or D.Va, rather, you remembered – who stared at you with hooded, conspiratory eyes. You relaxed into your chair, set your tablet to the side, and laughed quietly; you knew her game, but you’d humor her.

“Ah, yeah, almost since we were kids…  We were both pretty young when we went into Blackwatch. ‘Course, he had a few years longer than me in there…”

You trailed off, watching Hana lean across the table, her chin perched on her laced fingers. You cupped your head in the palm of your hand, matching the gaze. She was a cute kid.

“What?”

She pursed her lips, looking very much like a devious cat. “Sooo~ how long have you guys been in lo-ove?”

You sputtered, nearly faceplanting into the table with the force of your laughter. Hana backed off and peered at you with narrowed eyes. You shook your head, resting your head on a folded arm, and sighed.

“Mmm, it’s not like that. We’re close friends, yeah, but that’s as far as it goes.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, but  you wanna be _closer_.” She raised both eyebrows at you, cast you a daring glance. “The way he looks at you, it’s obvious.”

You shook your head again, gaze directed at your lap. It was becoming a little less cute and little more upsetting. Cutting too close to the heart. You dropped your voice as Genji and his omnic master passed through the room.

“Jess… McCree’s just like that, he’s just… affectionate. A really warm, loving guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“I think… you may be in denial.”

Your posture slumped, and you shot her a defeated glance. You huffed out another chuckle. “Listen, kid. It’s… he’s a straightforward man. If he… if anything was going to happen, he’d have said something about it years ago, believe me. As it stands, we’ve been apart for a while, and I’m just… glad to still be friends, after everything.”

Hana gaped. “Holy shit you’re _super_ in love with him.”

Your laugh leaned a little more on the side of self deprecating, quieter than all the rest, and you scratched the back of your neck. “Yes, well, don’t go spreading that around. …It’d ruin my reputation, you see.”

“Reputation _is_ important…” Hana murmured, blown away by the depths of your refusal to acknowledge that you and the cowboy needed to kiss already.

You offered her a smile, genuine, leaned back in your chair to resume reading. “Glad we’ve reached an understanding.”

 

* * *

 

The recent string of successful ops had been cause for celebration. Reyes had seen it fit that his men get some time off, and what better way to use it than with an impromptu party – complete with alcohol that may or may not have been illicitly gained.

McCree’s eyes settled on you, reclined easily on a couch on the far side of the room. You were pleasantly buzzed – maybe a little more than buzzed, if the gentle sway of your head was any indication. Your eyes were wide and soft when you caught sight of him and you beckoned him with wide motions of your arms, clumsy with intoxication. McCree laughed – it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you. He flopped next to you on the couch, just barely dodging your waiting arms, although you tangled around him in retribution. He couldn’t help the traitorous little flip his stomach did at the contact.

“Havin’ fun there, sugar?”

“Mmmhh, better that you’re here,” you nearly sang.

“Uh-huh, _sure._ ” McCree took a long pull of the beer he’d grabbed on the way in. “Got started without me and everything.”

Your head dropped to the crook of his neck and he nearly choked on a mouthful of alcohol when your face burrowed in. You laughed and it sent shocks down his body.

“M’kinda a lightweight…” you murmured, lips grazing his skin.

He laughed, heat creeping up his neck. “I can tell, sweetheart.”

You pulled back to look at him, eyes bleary but your expression content and you gave him the dopiest drunken smile that melted what little of his heart you hadn’t yet. He took another drink.  

You sat together in amicable silence, watching the people around you, him finally comfortable enough to pull an arm around your shoulders, and you still content to press yourself firmly into his side. The alcohol warmed him from the inside, and he was more at ease than he had been in months. A well deserved break, indeed.

“Mmhhh, Jess?”

A rumbling laugh rolled up from his chest. “Yeah, darlin’?”

He hardly noticed you’d sat up until he was staring you in the eyes again. Bleary, unfocused. Another drunken grin.

“I’m kinda in love with you, Jesse McCree~”

The empty bottle slipped from his loose fingertips. Before he could laugh it off, you’d hauled yourself closer to him, hands planted firmly on his shoulders, and kissed him. You’d missed, mostly, just barely caught the corner of his mouth, but the intent was there. Just when you were about to slide home, he pushed you back, holding you at arm’s length, your lips still puckered as though to continue kissing him. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, confused.

“Wh…?”

“Hey now, sugar, I think you’ve had a bit too much.”

He refused to hear any of your protests, quiet and slurred as they were. You got escorted safely to your quarters and then you went your separate ways, though McCree couldn’t deny that he’d sat awake the entire remainder of the night, staring at his ceiling, hoping for an impossibility. His traitorous heart twisted in his chest _what-if, what if, what if…_

The morning came and he met it with a sort of dreadful anxiety knotted in his gut. He schooled himself into friendly neutrality, asking kindly about your hangover, which you complained of deeply. His insides twinged.

You didn’t say anything about the kiss, he never brought it up, and it was left forgotten.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Eastwood! You got a sec?”

McCree looked up from lighting his cigarillo, and gave a grin to the DJ heading toward him. He took a drag and blew away from his companion, then tipped his head toward him.

“’Course. What’s up?”

Lúcio went suddenly quiet, as though struck by nerves. He shuffled from foot to foot, scratched his head. McCree raised a brow, but he was content to wait; he didn’t have anywhere to be anytime soon. The younger man cleared his throat and stood straighter.

“So, uh…” He coughed quietly, filling the silence. McCree momentarily feared he wouldn’t continue, but gave a start when Lúcio said your name. “They’re really something, huh?”

Something unfamiliar – unpleasant – crept up his spine with thin fingers, then back down, settling in his gut. McCree adjusted his posture, looked away from his shorter companion. The taste of the cigarillo soured his mouth.

“Yeah…” He still couldn’t help the way his voice dropped, grew soft and fond. “They really are.”

Lúcio went quiet again, and he eyed the DJ with a wariness better reserved for someone with a gun pointed at him. It made his stomach turn again. He was better than this. Wasn’t any point pining over a lost cause. He sharpened his mouth into another smile, shot a friendlier glance at the DJ.

“What, got any plans to make a move for ‘em?”

“Psh, naw. Was wondering when _you_ were gonna, though.”

The cigarillo almost dropped from his mouth; McCree took it and stubbed it out on the concrete at his feet regardless.

“That obvious?”

“Oh yeah.”

With a gut-deep sigh, he leaned against the wall behind him, looked out at the Watchpoint garden, which hardly proved a distraction. He tipped his hat back to run a hand through his already mussed hair.

“Ain’t no use. Any chance o’ that’s _long_ passed.”

“Mhmm.” Lúcio crossed his arms, eyed the cowboy critically. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

McCree went to take another drag of his cigarillo, then remembered he’d already tossed it and huffed, searching through his pockets for another. Found one, lit it up. Just buying himself time. He inhaled deeply, opened his eyes to see Lúcio waiting patiently. He sighed again.

“…S’alot of things. Time. Things I’ve done – that I’ve said. ‘ve hurt ‘em too much already, ain’t worth riskin’ it again.”

“You say this like you two aren’t inseparable.”

He bit down hard on the end of the cigarillo. “Long way to go between that and…” He shook his head. “Why’n the hell’re you bringin’ this up, anyway?”

Lúcio shrugged, grinning. “Maybe I just wanna see you happy.”

McCree pushed off the wall, tipped his hat as he walked away. “Well, that’s mighty kind a you’n all, but… naw. Don’t see it happenin’, not in this lifetime.”

 

* * *

 

“…Where are you going?”

McCree stopped in his tracks, spun to see you standing in the doorway, hair mussed and generally disheveled, as though you’d been roused from sleep. He wants to give an excuse, knows he can, but you know him too well, and you’d see right through him.

He muttered a curse under his breath, flinching under your scrutiny. “Shouldn’t you be sleepin’ ‘bout now?”

“Well, normally, yeah, but someone’s been acting a little funny the last few days.” You shrugged, staring him dead in the face. “So naturally I thought I’d lay awake worrying about my best friend. Seemed” – you eyed him up and down, at the way he was fully kitted for combat – “ appropriate. …Jesse, where are you going?”

He’d have to wall up if he wanted to get past you. “Ain’t nothin’ you aughta be worryin’ about.”

“And I say that’s my decision to make.”

“Yeah well it’s the wrong one.”

Your whole body tensed like you wanted to storm up to him, but you swayed on your feet, hand catching the doorway to hold yourself back. You inhaled through your teeth, your whole body shifting with the motion, steeling yourself.

“I know that… things have been bad lately, but you know you can always talk to me right?” He refused to meet your gaze; realization must’ve struck. Your tone dropped, hurt. “…Are you skipping out on us?”

His teeth clenched. He dug his feet into the floor in an effort to fight heading toward you.

“This whole thing’s headed south. Overwatch, Blackwatch. Figure my chances of survival go up if I don’t stick around for the fireworks.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Your voice rose in pitch, shaky like the fists clenched at your sides. “What, so you’re just gonna… gonna jump ship, leave us all to deal with it without you?”

“You’ll manage.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just so _sure_ of everything, aren’t you?”

“If you’d wisen up, you’d see the same warning signs I’m seein’ right now and get the hell out too.”

“Oh like _hell_ I’m gonna just-just _abandon_ the people who need me, based on-on what? On a fuckin’ _hunch?_ ”

He jabbed a finger in your direction. “I ain’t abandoning nobody!”

“Then what the _fuck_ are you doing?” You threw your hands in the air, near screaming. Frustrated tears started streaking down your ruddy cheeks. “Running off to save your own hide? Gonna watch whatever show you see coming from the sidelines, like the smug bastard you are? ‘ _Fuck all of ‘em, I guess, cause I saw it coming’_?”

“Better than sittin’ around on my hands waiting for everything to come crashing down on our heads!”

“Then fucking _go!_ ” You spat, chest heaving.

He had to turn away. If he lingered just a second longer, you’d have changed his mind. He didn’t say a word in response, didn’t see you fall to your knees in the doorway, defeated.

He didn’t leave for two more days. Something kept him around; he wanted you to fight him again, convince him to stay, and even if you couldn’t, hold back the inevitable, let just being near you be enough and you could weather the storm together. But you never confronted him, never said a word to  anybody about his plans – you acted like he was already gone.

So he made himself gone.

And after a few months, when the inevitable came, Overwatch fell, and he tried his hardest not to think of you.

 

* * *

 

“Any luck?”

Hana sighed, her entire body betraying her weariness.

“No, nothing.” She pulled at her hair with a frustrated shout. “They’re both stubborn idiots!”

“It’s like they’re… like they’re literally _fighting_ against being together. Doesn’t make _any_ sense!”

Lena blinked in, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. “Ahahaha, still at it then, luvs?”

Lúcio’s head lolled backwards. “About ready to throw in the towel, honestly. These two…”

At seeing her friends’ dejected faces, Lena almost felt bad. “Well, we did warn ya, didn’t we?”

“Well… yeah, but I didn’t think – ”

“Oh my god.”

“- these two would be so _thickheaded_. Can’t they see how obviously in love they are with each other?”

“ _Oh my god._ ”

“- ‘s almost sad how –.”

“ ** _세상에_**! Shit, _look!_ ”

At Hana’s latest interjection, Lena and Lúcio both looked in the direction she pointed with a shaking arm, the girl nearly hopping up and down, shaking the other two still caught in the embrace. Jaws fell.

“Well,” Lena started, mouth slowly curling into a grin. “Would ya lookit that?”

At the end of the hallway there stood you and McCree, standing close, as was usual, but something had changed. The invisible distance had all but vanished, and they could only watch in awe as the two of you drew closer, eventually meeting in a kiss.

Hana squealed with delight, her hands clasped over her mouth, Lúcio gave a loud cheer and Lena literally leapt a foot in the air. At the commotion, semi-distant as it was, you and McCree turned, somewhat embarrassed, but too pleased to care. The man drew you in for another kiss.

A happy ending, at last.

“Well, it seems you’ve done it, Master.”

The trio jumped, startled at the sudden, silent appearance of Genji and Zenyatta. They stared blankly at the impassive face of the omnic monk, hovering serenely behind them, seemingly also watching the scene at the end of the hall.

“How wonderful that everything has worked out for them.” The omnic stated, a pleased note to the synthetic hum of his voice. “What good just a bit of simple guidance can do.”

The vacant stares continued. Abruptly, Lena doubled over, and started laughing uncontrollably.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So, how long?”

McCree hummed quietly in the back of his throat, hat pulled over his eyes. You adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position where you lay on his chest, tipped your head up in an attempt to look him in the eyes. He whistled a single note.

“Mmmm, well, sweetheart, I do believe I was yours before I even knew ya~ Was written in the stars.”

You smacked your palm against his chest, laughing when he jumped. “Oh hush you _cornball._ Gimmie a real answer.”

He threw the arm that wasn’t holding you over his face, smooshing his hat further down, and took on a melodramatic tone.

“Oh darlin’, _darlin’_ , don’t be so cruel, you know it’s the truth~”

Your laughs died down to breaths and you settled further into his embrace. It didn’t matter how long, really, if in the end, in spite of everything, you were brought together.

And maybe he was right. Written in the stars, indeed.


End file.
